Waiting Game
by SueB3
Summary: Ranger pushed Steph away with harsh words before his last mission. Did he mean what he said or could Tank's being wounded during a takedown bring them together again?
1. Chapter 1

Not my characters, they belong to Janet Evanovich, but as long as Ranger can come out and play I can live with that.

For anyone who is concerned, this story is finished and has been posted in its entirety on Yahoo's Perfectly Plum. I am going to post it here a couple chapters at a time Just in case I want to tinker with a few of them. This is a Babe Story. Be warned that it contains harsh language, violence and a very tightly wound Ranger. Morelli appears, but only briefly. He isn't particularly harmed. The characters you don't recognize from the Plum World are of my own invention.

**Waiting Game**

by

SueB

Chapter 1

"Sir! Sir! You can't go in there!"

"The hell I can't," said the glowering man in black.

Ranger didn't wait well. Particularly he didn't wait well in the reception area of the ER with one of his own on the way to emergency surgery. No twenty something snippet of a receptionist was going to keep him from following the gurney carrying his man through the double doors labeled 'Authorized Personnel Only.'

"Sir, I'm going to have to call security." The poor girl's voice quivered.

"Yeah, you do that," he agreed. Like they'd be able to stop him.

Usually this was the point where Tank would put a restraining hand on his shoulder, tell him to stop being an ass and to let the doctors do their job. Tank was the only one who could talk to Ranger like that and not risk death or deployment to the Third World. But tonight Tank, the voice of reason, was missing. Missing because Tank was the man on the gurney fighting for his life.

Ranger was halfway thorough the doors when he heard another all too familiar voice.

"Ranger! Don't be an ass! Let the doctors do their job."

He hesitated. It was just long enough for the EMT's to rush Tank away and into a waiting elevator.

He knew that voice all right. It was the only other person who could call him an ass and get away with it, but he hadn't spoken to her in more than three months. More precisely, he hadn't spoken to her in three months, ten days and sixteen hours. If he had glanced at his watch he could also have immediately calculated the minutes. That was when he had driven her away. It was right before his last mission. He hadn't known if he would return, but he had known that if he got back there could be powerful enemies right behind him. It was all he could think to do to keep her safe. Yet here she was and him with one man down already.

He turned around, engulfed in a force field of anger. "Who the fuck invited you?" he growled.

It wasn't the welcoming response Steph was hoping for, but she held her ground opening her mouth to reply. Ranger ignored her, instead he cast his eyes over the collection of RangeMan employees filling the room. One of them was studying his shoes.

"Santos!" Ranger barked. "You're on report. I'll see you at 5 a.m. tomorrow." Suddenly he realized that given the circumstances he had no idea where he might be at 5 a.m. tomorrow. He put the onus on the other man. "You find me."

"Cut the crap, Ranger," Steph said, "Lester thought I might be able to help......"

Ranger turned on her spitting out, "I don't need anybody's help."

"with Lula," she finished.

He closed his eyes, let out a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. Christ! Lula! How could he have forgotten Lula?

Every night they weren't together, Tank called his woman. They allowed an hour window and if he knew he wasn't going to be able to make contact Tank let her know. He explained it like this. 'My baby girl had enough uncertainty in her life when she was a 'ho. She sleeps better knowin' I'm okay, I can do that.' If any of the men found the huge black man's cooed conversations with the former prostitute amusing, they kept it to themselves. Tank could break a man's neck in 10 seconds or less. He could do it with one hand.

Ranger checked the time. Tank wouldn't be making his telephone call tonight and the window was closing fast. Tank might never make his telephone call again. Lula would be disconsolate. Much as he hated to admit it, Lester was right. He needed Stephanie's help.

Without further acknowledging her, he started issuing orders. "Santos, take Stephanie, pick up Lula and bring her back here. Bobby, you're here with me in case I need medical translation. The rest of you," he fixed the other men with an intense black stare, "I want this shooter. I need intel and I want it yesterday. Who is he? How did he know where we would be? His mother's maiden name. Shit, I want to know the color of his underwear. Find him. Is that clear?"

"Clear, Boss. You got it. We're on it, Boss." The men began to file out, but Ranger stopped them with a warning.

"Listen up! We don't know for sure what we're dealing with here. Be careful. Watch your backs." What he didn't say was, 'If this is tied to my last mission, you could all be dead.' It was a huge omission, but one he couldn't do anything about.

Steph followed Lester to the parking lot. Ranger watched them go and then barged through the forbidden doors.

"Boss!" Bobby called.

"Shut up, Bobby," was Ranger's reply.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Lester loaded Steph into the passenger side of a big black RangeMan SUV and climbed into the driver's seat. Earlier, after the shooting, he'd called her from her parking lot telling her only that Ranger needed her. She'd run out of the building in a minute flat without a coat. Now she scrutinized him wanting answers.

"You going to tell me what happened? It's bad isn't it?"

Lester kept his eyes on the road, but nodded, yes. It was bad.

"Is Tank going to make it?"

He shrugged and cut his eyes to her, they were big and sad.

"Oh no," Steph cried softly.

"Look," Lester said, "I don't know for sure. Only, Bobby was more worried than I've ever seen him. That's all I've got to go on."

She was quiet for a minute.

"Ranger didn't know you called me did he?" she finally asked.

Lester shrugged again. "Ranger was fixed on Tank. I knew Lula would need you," was all he said.

"I'm sorry I threw you under the bus."

He snorted. "Doesn't matter. Ranger would have found out it was me anyway. You know how he is. Sees all, knows all, controls all."

Steph was thoughtful. "How long's he been like this?" she asked.

"Ranger? You mean being a bigger dick than usual?"

"Yeah, I guess that's what I mean."

"Well, let's see, when was the last time you talked to him."

She glanced at the clock on the dashboard. "Three months, ten days, sixteen and a half hours," she replied. "But, that can't be the reason."

Lester stopped for a red light. "Beautiful, I don't mean to bring up sore subjects, but the second you walked out that door, he turned into an honest to goodness larger than life fucking jack ass."

Steph struggled to keep her tears at bay. She wanted to forget that conversation more than anything. On some days she managed. Didn't look like today was going to be one of those days.

"Les, I didn't walk out the door, I was thrown out. Ranger," she swallowed a sob. "Ranger made it pretty clear he didn't want me around then or ever again."

"Nah, I can't believe that."

"You didn't hear the things he said to me," she murmured feeling her face flush at the memory.

"Like what?" Lester challenged.

"Like, 'Steph, it's just not working for me any more,' like 'go back to the cop where you belong and have his babies,' like 'sorry, Babe, the entertainment value is getting old.' The dam broke. "I knew he was leaving, Lester, I went there to tell Ranger that I loved him. Well, he took care of that." She lifted her chin; her voice turned hard. "I don't love him any more."

Lester shook his head. There was something wrong with this picture.

"I'm sorry, Beautiful, I didn't know. You know, anything I can do."

"I know, Les, you're a good friend."

"Hey, **best friends just won't leave your side.**"

"That's Lula's building," she said pointing, "the next one up."

"Tank must be holding on," Lester declared.

Steph looked at him inquisitively.

"Or we'd have had a phone call."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Every guy at RangeMan carried a torch for Bomber. Lester didn't know one man who wasn't at least a little bit in love with her - himself maybe more than most. No one though had a sufficient death wish to act on his inclinations. Everyone knew Steph was Ranger's woman. Oddly enough, even during those intervals when she was with the cop it was understood that she was off limits. She was Ranger's woman even then and you didn't mess with Ranger. Not if you wanted to keep your favorite body parts intact.

But as Lester pulled the big SUV to the curb in front of Lula's building and cut the engine, he couldn't help thinking about what she had just said. **'I don't love him any more.'** It was enough to fan the spark of hope in his heart and Steph's hand on his arm when he cracked the door to get out sent a shock through his system that went straight to his groin. Damn! He turned back to her.

She wasn't even looking at him. She was staring at an apartment on the second floor. "I need to go in alone," she was saying never taking her eyes off the lighted window. "Lula will freak right off if we both show up at her door."

Shit, shit, shit. Get a grip, Santos, he told himself. You know it's a snowball's chance in hell she doesn't still love him. Yeah. Problem was. This was hell and he was the snowball - melting fast. Who knew though maybe, in the future, hell was in for a chill. **The best thing about the future, **he thought, **is that it comes only one day at a time. ** That's what he would do. He'd take it one day at a time.

*****

Bobby needed to move. By sheer menacing force of personality Ranger had overcome every obstacle to position the two of them in the hallway leading to the hospital's operating rooms. Bobby wanted to pace. But, Ranger didn't pace; Ranger did anti-pace. He translated nervous energy into complete stillness. Now he stood statue-like with one foot braced against the wall. Only his eyes moved sweeping the hallway when a door swung open or challenging any hospital personnel who might question the presence of the two men dressed in black.

A scrub nurse came out of one of the doors. She took a furtive glance at the two men and then gave them a wide berth. God, Bobby thought, we must look like the grim reaper and his henchman. He shifted his feet. Ranger threw him a look. Pacing was out of the question.

Bobby was antsy. Ranger knew. Too bad. The younger man would just have to deal. While Ranger's body was still, his thoughts were racing. Tonight had been entirely his fault.

The job should have been an easy one for RangeMan - a mid-level skip, no fancy work necessary, a plain vanilla capture and bingo, a bad guy back in the hooskow where he belonged. Another day at the office. But this guy had eluded them for days. Three times they'd gone to pick him up and their intel had been either faulty or too late. By the time they'd located him tonight Ranger knew he'd been angry. Very angry.

If he allowed himself to think about it, he'd been angry ever since the day he had hurt his Babe. His words wounded her far worse than any physical injury could have. He'd had to do it. He had to keep her safe and that meant away from him. It made him hate his life and the things he did a little more.

Tonight his team was there, but Ranger had done the takedown himself his anger and frustration coming out in his fists after he'd planted the skip's face in the concrete. The cuffs went on hard and the bastard had known this wasn't his mother tucking him in for the night. He'd been too busy beating the crap out of the skip to listen to the warning in Tank's voice. 'Rangeman,' Tank said, 'something's off.' Ranger ignored him. Ignored him long enough that Tank felt the need to cover his back and walk right into the bullet. The bullet that should have taken him.

Oh, yes. Tonight had been entirely his fault all right. And worse. All his men knew it.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Steph took a deep breath. She had to knock on the door. Lester promised her ten minutes but she'd spent at least four of them delaying. He was probably already on his way up. "Damn," she whispered, "I don't want to do this."

There was music coming from inside. She knocked. The door flew open.

"White Girl! What you doin' here this time a night?"

Lula danced away from the door in time to the music. She was wearing a shortie nightgown - chocolate chiffon on the bottom and spandex leopard skin on top. Only Lula could find spandex lingerie. Like all her other ensembles it appeared to be at least one size too small, seriously accentuating her considerable assets.

Steph couldn't help but stare as Lula motioned for her to enter. "Get yor skinny ass in here. What ya think?" she asked, twirling around. The chiffon swirled out revealing panties to match the top. Lula went on before Steph could voice her opinion. "Tank said if he got done in time tonight he might stop by instead of callin'. Since I ain't heard from him yet, I figure he must be on his way." She struck a pose. "I got this special for the Big Guy. I think he'll like it."

"It's absolutely you," Steph replied, not knowing what else to say. "It's perfect."

"So, White Girl, I don't mean to rush you or nothin' but when the Big Guy gets here, we gonna have some business. You know what I mean?"

Oh, God, Steph thought, he's not coming. Tank's not coming. I have to tell her. "Lula," she started, "Ranger sent me."

All Lula heard was Ranger. "What!" she screeched, "You back with Batman? Well, all right! 'Bout time you ask me. You two belong together! Besides, Tank says he's a bear since you two been split. Can't nobody hardly stand him."

"No," Steph protested, "no, no. We're not back together. Lula!"

There was a soft rap at the door. Lula was expecting Tank. It was Lester.

As Lester moved into the room, Lula backed up. She backed up until she hit the sofa. And then she sat. All the joy went away.

"Tank's not coming," she said. It wasn't a question, her voice was flat and empty.

Steph ran to put her arms around her friend. "No, Lula, he's not coming," she said softly. "I'm sorry. Not tonight."

Two tears ran down the big woman's face. "He dead?" she asked.

"No!" Steph cried hoping that was still true. Lester didn't contradict her. No news was good news. "No, but he was shot. He's in surgery. We'll take you to the hospital. You want to be there when Tank wakes up."

"Now why Batman go and get my Big Guy shot?" Lula asked her voice rising. "He know I don't like that shit."

Suddenly Steph realized no one, not even Lester, had told her exactly what had happened. Ranger better have some explanations she thought. Lula didn't take kindly to Tank's being out of order. The big lug better wake up.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out.

Eyes closed, counting breaths, Bobby felt the adrenaline generated by the night's events receding, replaced by a cool soothing calm. He offered a silent thank you to an aged Chinese man who had taught him this ancient way during an early stint in the Far East. He'd used the technique before, but had never been more grateful for its effect than he was tonight. Standing here with Ranger praying Tank would live was hard.

With himself in hand, Bobby cautiously studied Ranger. Never before had he seen the man lose control so completely. It was frightening. Had it also been deadly? Now, although Ranger stood stone still, Bobby knew his boss was coiled tighter than a rattler ready to strike.

A swinging door directly opposite them slammed open bouncing back hard against the wall. A surgeon, a tall man dressed in green scrubs, emerged while calling back over his shoulder.

"Finish it and clean up the mess."

Despite the nondescript hospital garb, the man had an authoritative presence punctuated by steel grey hair and piercing blue eyes. When he saw the two men dressed in black, contempt shadowed the doctor's aristocratic features. It was bad enough that he had been called out and forced to use his exceptional skills on the low life in his operating room, did he now also have to confront the man's cronies? They all looked like drug dealing gang members.

If not for his ego, the surgeon thought he might have let the man die on the table. There'd been ample opportunity and he was sure the world would be grateful for one less hoodlum. But Dr. Douglas Markham prided himself on never losing a patient. They might die in recovery or the ICU, but no one, not even the big black thug he'd just worked on, died while actually under his knife. He certainly didn't have to put up with this riff raff.

Ranger pushed off from the wall just as the surgeon commanded, "You there. This hallway is off limits. Leave now or I'll have security escort you out."

Right, Ranger thought as he invaded the doctor's space. The man's eyes widened slightly.

"Your patient, doctor, large black man. shaved head, gunshot wound," Ranger said, "what's his condition?"

Mistakenly, Dr. Markham thought this was a question he could handle. He oozed condescending charm. "So sorry," he replied smoothly, "I'm afraid I can only speak with the family." He raised his hands in a gesture that said 'what can I do.' "HIPPA regulations."

"He's my brother," Ranger replied evenly.

Dr. Markham laughed disdainfully, "You expect me to believe that?"

"I'm adopted."

"Sure you are."

The rattler struck. In less than a heartbeat, Ranger had the doctor backed up against the wall. When he spoke his voice was a low menacing rumble.

"Listen to me you arrogant prick, that man took a bullet for me tonight and that makes him my brother. I want to know his condition and I want to know it now."

Seriously alarmed, with no security in sight, Dr. Markham recognized a battle he wasn't going to win. "Condition's extremely critical," he disclosed reluctantly, "there was extensive internal damage."

"Did you fix it?" Ranger asked, his voice tight. "Is he going to make it?"

"I can't answer that," the surgeon admitted. "I did what I could."

To the man's credit, he looked Ranger in the eye. "He's breathing," he went on, "I'm damn good at what I do."

"So am I," Ranger replied, "so am I," leaving the good doctor to wonder what that might be. Ranger backed away as he said, "I'm also the guy who's paying your bills. You better be worth your money."

Ranger turned and stalked away. Half way down the hall he looked back to say, "By the way, Doctor, your security leaves a lot to be desired."

"No shit," Dr. Markham mumbled trying to not hyperventilate.

Bobby watched the whole exchange. He had to admit the doctor impressed him. The man at least made an attempt to stand up to Ranger. Bobby liked arrogance in a surgeon. It took balls to take a knife to a warm body. He tried to make amends.

"Sorry, sir. He's a little upset. Thank you for taking care of Tank."

The doctor attempted to recover his dignity, "Get the hell out of here," he yelled at Bobby. "Who do you people think you are?"

"We're RangeMan," Bobby answered.

RangeMan. RangeMan. With sudden dismay, Dr. Markham recognized the name. His knees went weak. He was almost afraid to ask. "And that was?"

"Carlos Manoso. Owner, CEO."

Of course it was. Oh, God. Not gang members, not drug dealers just the largest contributor to the hospital's charitable foundation.

The surgeon smiled weakly at Bobby. "We'll take good care of your man," he promised, "see that he has the finest care."

"Good idea," Bobby said. Nodding in the direction Ranger had gone, Bobby continued. "And he was right, you know. No offense, but your security sucks. Needs a complete overhaul. You should call us. Make an appointment.

"I'll do that," Dr. Markham readily agreed. Right after I rescrub and make sure my resident isn't botching the closing, he thought. That man in there needed the best.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

I am overwhelmed by the response to this story. Many thanks to all the readers out there and to those people who have been so kind to send me encouraging words. Chapter 6 and Chapter 7 are on the shorter side and they go together (you'll see why when you read) so I am going to post them both at once. Hope you enjoy.

Chapter 6

"Beautiful?"

Lester caught Steph's eye in the rear view mirror. The ride to the hospital had been strangely silent considering he had Stephanie and Lula, the consummate talkers, in the back seat of the SUV. The only sounds had been a stifled sob followed by a few quiet words of comfort. Damn this was a bitch. He hoped they weren't driving into bad news.

"I'm going to drop you two at the door of the ER. This time of night, that's the only one that's open."

Steph nodded. Lester pulled the vehicle under the protective canopy in front of the doors. From what he could see in the available light, Lula's eyes were squeezed tight shut. He wasn't sure if she was praying or banking tears.

By the time he parked and went inside, the two women were gone. Bobby met him halfway across the room. There was no sign of Ranger.

"Tank?" Lester asked, not knowing if he wanted to hear the answer.

"Holding on," Bobby replied. "Just coming out of recovery. They're moving him to ICU. I sent Steph and Lula on up. It's touch and go, Les. He was hit hard."

Lester wiped his hand across his face. "Where's the boss?" he asked looking around but this time not really caring what the answer was.

"Not sure."

"What'd ya mean?"

"We.........uh..he had a discussion with the surgeon."

"Ah, hell. Ranger didn't hit him did he? Tell me the doctor doesn't need a doctor."

"No, Ranger didn't hit him; he was just........persuasive. Doc didn't need medical attention -- fresh set of underwear maybe. Probably it was a good thing. Guy seemed more interested in taking care of Tank once he found out who he was dealing with. Boss took off. Haven't seen him since."

"Good riddance," Lester mumbled.

"You got a real bug up your ass tonight. You're already in deep shit you know."

"Bobby, I'm going to say something. **Absolutely no one is to know about it. Not. A. Soul. **So help me, if one word gets out I'll swear it was you who said it and that will be right after I pound you into the ground. Got it?"

A nod.

"I think Ranger has completely lost it. He's crazy. Certifiable."

Bobby opened his mouth like he was going to protest but then said nothing.

"You understand what I'm talking about don't you?"

Bobby dropped his eyes before he began to speak.

"We're all trained, Lester, but you know as well as I do that Ranger is on a whole different level. The jobs they send him on -- he lives on the edge all the time. You and me....we don't have any idea all the shit that goes down with him."

"True enough. That's what makes what happened tonight even more frightening. The way he went off. I hate to say it, but if Tank hadn't been shot, that skip would have been a dead man."

Bobby didn't disagree.

"And that's not all. He hurt Steph."

Now Bobby did protest. "No! No way! He'd never touch her. Christ, he loves her. We all know that, even if he doesn't."

"I'm not talking fists, Bobby. He hurt her all the same."

"You've got it bad, don't you?" Bobby said.

"Got what bad?"

"A death wish."

"Santos!"

Both men jumped at the sound of Ranger's voice.

"You need to be more aware of your surroundings, Santos."

_Oh Shit!_

_TBC_


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Ranger! Lester spun around to face him.

Where had he come from? How much had he heard?

What the hell, Lester thought, maybe now was as good a time as any to see this through.

The two men went way back. Lester had always been proud to serve under Ranger. The man had it all – strength, skills, courage, intelligence, an unflappable calm under fire. When Ranger started RangeMan, Lester was honored to join the fledgling organization. Ranger was not just his boss, he was his friend.

Which is what had made the last three months so hard. None of them knew what this past mission entailed, but Ranger had changed. Lester hardly recognized the man standing in front of him. He was deadly menace personified.

Ranger's long dark hair flowed freely around his shoulders, his jaw smudged by a dark stubble. His hands hung loose at his sides, but his eyes glittered with rage and his stance screamed battle ready.

"You may have a problem, Santos," Ranger breathed quietly, "but trust this. You do not want a piece of me tonight."

Lester had never been nervous around Ranger. They were on the same side after all. Now, for the first time, he was afraid, but his desire to bring the other man to account for hurting Stephanie overcame any panic.

"You've stepped over the line this time, man," Lester persisted.

Suddenly, Ranger smiled knowingly, "This really is all about Stephanie, isn't it? You love her."

Lester's eyes flared. "Doesn't matter whether I do or I don't. She doesn't deserve to be treated like shit." He stopped. "She loves you," he admitted shaking his head, "no matter what she says."

Ranger stood there. Face blank. Breathing hard. Saying nothing.

"You son of a bitch," Lester said.

"Don't do it, Santos," Ranger warned.

"No!" Bobby cried.

Lester surged forward.

Ranger dropped him with one solid fist.

Blood spurted from Lester's nose and lip.

Cal came through the doors. "Boss," he called out, "there's something you should...............what the fuck!" he said seeing the pile of Lester on the floor.

Ranger didn't turn around. "We're clear here, Cal. I'll be right there."

"Yeah, sure, Boss," Cal said throwing a questioning look at Bobby and then backing out.

Ranger knelt down beside his fallen man. The rage was gone from his eyes replaced by an infinite sadness. Lester tried to focus as Ranger grasped his shirt front pulling him up so he could whisper in his ear.

"Did it ever occur to you," he said for only Lester to hear, "that I hurt her because I loved her too much to want to see her die?"

Abruptly, he let go of the shirt, got up and stalked out the door. Lester's head banged against the floor.

Bobby was right there. "Les! Man! You okay?"

Lester rolled over and got to his knees, blood still dripping from his nose. "Yeah, sure. Have to say getting my clock cleaned by my boss with one shot right out here in front of God and everybody. **That was the single most thrilling experience of my entire life." **

He gave Bobby a silly grin and passed out cold.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Cold sweat. Short breaths. Dizziness. Steph recognized the symptoms. Panic attack. No…...! No…! No…! Not now! She had to keep it together for Lula. But she really didn't like the ICU.

Last time she'd been here it was for Ranger -- after Scrog. Nothing had changed – serious nurses in soft-soled shoes – hushed conversations – quiet sobs – the constant whir, beep and hum of medical equipment - the occasional Code Blue. With aching clarity, the sounds and images rocketed her back to that horrible night.

That night she realized with an electrifying certainty that she loved Ranger. And that night, she knew Ranger revealed he loved her too. He walked into her apartment -- unarmed, hands raised -- a living target. His eyes spoke volumes. They said, 'I will die for you.' If that wasn't love, she didn't know what was.

Seconds later, his dying had almost become a reality. Julie saved them all that night, but when Scrog's attack left Ranger unconscious and bleeding on her apartment floor, Steph tasted the terrible emptiness of life without him. She'd been gnawing on that same emptiness every day since that conversation in his office when he'd discarded her.

Tonight she'd told Lester she didn't love Ranger any more. Well wasn't that just Denial and his twin Denial chatting each other up. The truth was she loved Ranger with every breath. The difference was he no longer loved her.

Ranger's rapidly improving condition had made his ICU sojourn mercifully short. Tank, on the other hand, looked to be in for the long haul. She had to pull herself together.

A viselike grip on her forearm yanked Steph back to the present reality. Someone was talking.

"You can see him now," said one of the serious nurses, "I can take you in."

Steph looked down at her arm where Lula nails - were they really leopard skin to match her nighty - were about to break skin. Carefully she pried the fingers loose and led her friend down the hall after the nurse.

They stopped in front of a glass-walled space. Unlike others they had passed, this space contained just one patient. Tank's huge frame dwarfed the hospital bed. With all the tubes and wires going in and out of him he looked like Gulliver in Lilliput.

Lula froze at the entrance. "White girl," she said, "I'm gonna puke." It was the first she had spoken since getting out of the car.

"No, no you're not," Steph told her. "We're going to go in and see Tank."

"Can't."

"Why not."

"Gonna puke."

Steph wasn't sure what to do. "Well, go puke then. Get it over with and we'll go see Tank."

"Might take a while."

"Lula?"

Lula turned and looked at Steph her eyes huge and wet with tears. "Yeah."

"What's the matter?"

"Scared."

"Scared?"

"Look at all them machines. **Suppose something goes wrong. **Suppose I go in there and a big full-figured woman like myself trips and pulls out some wires or tubes or shit and suppose all them bells and whistles go off and suppose.................suppose," she took a deep shuddering breath, suppose Tank dies."

"Oh, Lula." Steph cried pulling her into a tight embrace. Shaking with fear, Lula buried her head on Steph's shoulder.

"Tank's strong," Steph went on. "He made it through the surgery. And you know how much he loves you, right?"

The head nodded up and down without leaving the shoulder.

"He's going to fight as hard as he can to come back to you. And you know what a fierce fighter he can be." Again the nod.

But Steph wondered whether Lula did know how tough Tank could be. Plus size that she was, Lula was his Baby Girl. To her he was a gentle giant with the carriage of a warrior and the soul of a Teddy Bear.

A second nurse bustled by them, went into the room, checked a monitor and pressed her stethoscope against Tank's chest. When she finished she adjusted the valve on one of the IV bags feeding into his arm.

Everything's too small Steph thought. That skinny tube can't possibly sustain Tank's massive body and they must have had to use a bolt of gauze to cover his wounds.

Lula had raised her head and watched the nurse's ministrations with mounting horror. The kindly woman recognized her discomfort and gently explained. "His heart rate's a little erratic," she said. "We're not too worried, just want to keep an eye on it."

The nurse hurried away, but now Lula was more reluctant than ever to go in.

"Listen," Steph said. "I have an idea. I don't know what all this equipment is, but I bet Bobby does." She pointed into the room. "I'm going to pull that chair right up beside Tank's bed and sit you down. I'll go find Bobby and he can tell you about it. Would that make you feel better?"

"I'm afraid to touch him," Lula said sadly. "That might help."

"Good. Tell you what. If you're nervous just talk to him until we get back. You can touch him with your voice."

"I could sing to him." Lula chimed in, her mood brightening considerably.

"Uh..........maybe you better just talk," Steph suggested thinking of Lula's days with Sally Sweet's band. "You don't want to get him too excited."

"Nope, I'll sing. Big Guy likes it when I sing." Lula sat down, leaned toward Tank and started in.

_Ev'ry time I feel de spirit, movin' in my heart, I will pray _

_O ev'ry time I feel de spirit, movin' in my heart, I will pray_

_Upon de mountain my Lord spoke Out o' his mouth came fire and smoke_

_An' all around me look so shine Aska my Lord if all was mine_

_Jordan river chilly cold Chilla de body but not de soul_

Her voice, a rich warm alto, filled the room. Lula could sing gospel. Who knew.

As she left the room, Steph would have sworn that the beeps from the heart monitor evened out to a strong regular rhythm.

Now where was Bobby? And what the hell had happened to Lester? He should have had the car parked by now.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

WARNING for harsh deeds and language. This chapter DOES NOT exhibit the softer side of Ranger.

Chapter 9

Ranger pounded through the outside doors of the ER.

"Shit............shit, shit, shit." The expletive hissed out of him over and over again.

He was across the sidewalk and ten feet into the parking lot before he remembered Cal. Waiting for him. Right beside the door. He'd blown by the big man and hadn't even seen him. And it wasn't like Cal was easy to miss.

"You need to be more aware of your surroundings, Manoso," he muttered to himself.

How many of his own rules had he screwed with tonight? Let's see. Beaten the skip to a bloody pulp. Ignored Tank's instinctive warning getting his best friend seriously wounded, if not dead. Intimidated the doctor. Decked Santos. God, he'd hit Lester for being right. Right about Stephanie. Right about losing it. Right about being nuts. If any of his employees had fucked up this badly he'd have fired them on the spot.

"Boss? Ranger?" Cal called softly.

Muscles bunched, nerves stretched and fast fraying, Ranger stopped dead.

Cautiously, Cal caught up. What the hell had gone down inside with Santos? "You okay, Boss? he asked. "Any word on Tank?"

Ranger ignored the first question, but answered the second. "Out of surgery. Critical." It was obvious Tank's condition wasn't his favored topic of conversation. "You got something?" he snapped. "Report."

"Ahh, yeah. This you need to see. Come on. Over here."

Cal led Ranger further across the lot into a corner where vandalized street lights discouraged any serious visitor parking. A rusty blue Chevy van sat at the edge of the asphalt in a pool of darkness. Most RangeMan vehicles were black, shiny and new, but Ranger recognized this one as a company asset they used for surveillance in the seedier sections of town.

The van's driver and front passenger doors opened simultaneously as Cal and Ranger approached. Junior and Hal slid out. Tank was the first thing on their minds, but the question froze on their lips as the interior light splashed on the harsh unhappy planes of Ranger's face. It didn't look like good news. Finally, Junior had to ask.

"How's he doin'?"

When Cal replied, "Still with us," the other men breathed again.

"How long am I supposed to stand here with my dick in my hand?" Ranger broke in. Patience wasn't on the menu. "What have you got?"

As he spoke a wordless muffled voice and a thumping sound came from inside the van.

"We've got him, Boss," Cal announced. "We got the shooter."

Ranger's eyes darkened with hatred. Hands clenched, he inclined his head toward the van. Junior popped the latch on the side sliding door, allowing it to open.

A young man, a boy actually, spilled out onto the pavement. Dressed in jeans, T-shirt and running shoes, he was cuffed at the ankles and wrists, hands behind his back. A strip of duct tape across his mouth explained the garbled language. He had fallen on his side and although his bonds made movement difficult, the boy maneuvered himself onto his knees. Eyes on fire, the kid let loose what had to be a load of cuss. None of it understandable.

Ranger met his men's eyes with a dumbfounded stare. "Is this supposed to be a joke?" he asked, "Cause I'm not laughing."

The boy continued his string of unintelligible invectives seemingly undisturbed by the fact that he was staring at a man who looked like The Devil himself.

"Boss, this kid did it," Cal insisted. "He shot Tank. We tracked him, we have the gun, he bragged about it."

"So why doesn't Trenton PD have him?" Ranger inquired.

"They were lookin' for a grown up," Junior contributed, "weren't smart enough to follow the bubble gum wrappers."

"This kid can't be more than twelve," Ranger said reaching forward and stripping the tape off of the boy's mouth none too gently.

"Fifteen, you motherfucker!" the captive declared loudly.

"Mind your fucking mouth," Ranger growled throwing the back of his hand sharply across the kid's cheek.

The blow threw the boy off balance, but in no way diminished his bravado. He shook his head, righted himself and fixed Ranger with a cold hard glare.

"What's your name?" Ranger demanded.

"Velasquez---Javier" the kid replied. "Remember it."

"Well, Javier Velasquez," Ranger returned grabbing hold of the boy's shirt and hauling him up so their faces were inches apart. "You're pretty full of yourself. Who the hell sent you to kill me?"

The boy looked surprised. "Kill you? Who the fuck are you?"

What? Now it was Ranger's turn to be surprised, but he shut it down quickly, blank face slamming into place.

"Wrong answer." He gave the boy a shake. "Try again."

"Look mister I don't know who the fuck you are, but if I been after you, you wouldn't be standin' here. I rock." The kid put on a nasty knowing smile. "That big black amigo of yours -- he dead yet? Cause if he ain't, I'll be back."

"Not very likely," Ranger threatened, but the boy's revelation had shaken him. He dropped the kid back onto the concrete. Tank the target? Not him? The kid was actually after Tank? Why? What the fuck?

Ranger backed off trying to wrap his brain around this information. One deep breath later he ordered. "Take him to Haywood."

Someone coughed softly. There was a gentle scuff of shuffling feet. Ranger felt his men's uneasiness. It was thick in the air.

His voice was hard broaching no discussion. "Anybody got a problem with that?" he asked, regarding each man in turn.

Cal chanced responding, "You sure, Boss?"

"Don't worry," Ranger said. "I have to talk to Tank. I won't kill him. Unless," he turned his attention to the still defiant figure at this feet. Grabbing a handful of hair he snapped the kid's head back pinning him with a deadly gaze, "unless I can't talk to Tank and, if that's the case, you're going to pray for me to kill you."

For the first time, the boy's eyes showed a flicker of fear. Satisfied, Ranger let him go.

As he made his way back to the ER Ranger pulled out his cell phone and hit three on speed dial.

"Brown."

"Tank?"

"Moved to ICU. Still critical, but seems to be stabilizing"

"Are you with him?"

"No, Steph and Lula are. I just got to ICU." After cleaning up your Lester mess was left unsaid.

"Get to Tank's room and stay there. Call Haywood. I want two men on Tank around the clock. Understood?"

"Understood." Bobby paused then said. "Ranger? What's going on?"

"How the fuck should I know," Ranger replied and then a little softer. "I wish I did."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

_Underwater. That was it. He was underwater. Had to be. What else could explain the thick translucent wall filtering every sight, every sound, every touch. But how? And why? Get to the surface. That's important. Have to get there. But the body parts won't move. Arms and legs weighted and sluggish. Must be down deep. Very deep. For there to be so...........much........... pressure. He let the water lull him. _

_*****_

Bobby had just gotten off the elevator, cell phone to his ear. Steph heard him say, 'What's going on?' From the look on his face she wouldn't have been surprised if another man was down.

"Bobby? Is everything all right?"

He snapped the phone closed. "Where's Tank?"

"Down the hall. Lula's with him. I was looking for you."

Bobby grabbed Steph's arm and pulled her in the direction she had indicated. He said, "Ranger wants a guard on Tank twenty-four/seven."

"Why?"

"Didn't get details, my guess is maybe this wasn't about Ranger," he paused, "for a change."

Bobby had a tight grip on her arm so when Steph stopped in the middle of the hall he was forced to stop too.

"Bobby, what happened tonight? Lester dragged me out here, but no one has said a word about what went down."

Bobby shook his head. "I'll tell you, but I have to get to Tank. If Ranger shows up and my ass isn't parked outside his room I'll be cleaning toilets in a Somalian shit-house."

"Right there," Steph said, "next door down."

They peeked into the room. All was calm. No mysterious assassins in sight. Lula had pulled her chair as close to the bed as she could. She cradled Tank's hand, the one without the IV, against her cheek. In a soft voice she alternated soothing words of **comfort **with snatches of pure sweet gospel songs. Tank seemed as peaceful as a man with a deep chest wound could be.

"I was coming to get you," Steph whispered as they backed out of the room. "Lula was spooked by all the machines. I thought you could tell her about them so she'd be more comfortable."

"Looks like she figured things out all by herself."

Steph was done waiting. She marched Bobby across the hall and said, "So. Spill."

Bobby started reluctantly, "Ranger was edgy and **withdrawn **before he left this last time." He gave her a sideways glance like maybe she wanted to shed some light on that. She declined.

"Go on."

"It was worse when he got back. Instead of taking a couple of days to decompress, he started right into work. Not just with the paper. Field stuff, hands on. The skip tonight. We'd gone after him a couple of times. Unsuccessfully. When we finally caught up to him, Ranger made it clear this one was his deal."

Bobby stopped. He took a deep breath. "Over the year's I've seen Ranger do some pretty hard things. Part of the job. But, I've never seen him lose control." There was a long long pause. "Until tonight."

Bobby bowed his head. When he looked up again his eyes were haunted, disturbed like he'd lost something vital. Steph touched his arm both to ease his mind and to urge him on.

"He beat the shit out of the skip. That was bad enough, but it wasn't the worst part. Tank always has Ranger's back. They're tight. It's his calling. He knew something was wrong. He said so. Clearly. Ranger................Ranger ignored him. Kept right on after the skip."

Brow knit, Steph responded "What you're telling me is if Ranger hadn't ignored Tank, that shot might never have gone down. So, even if the shooter was after Tank, Ranger's still responsible. Because he was careless."

Bobby nodded. "It's the kind of mistake Ranger never, and I mean never, makes. It's why he's still alive." He went on, "I hate to say it, but ever since that day........"

Steph erupted, her voice rising, "Do not go there! Do you know how many people have said that to me tonight? Do you? At least three. Look at me," she demanded. Bobby did. "I did not **reject **him. He rejected me. This is not my fault!"

From behind her Lester's voice joined the conversation. "He loves you."

"Right," Steph retorted. "When it comes to **love**, Ranger's a regular Hallmark card. And where did you park the car? Newark?" Steph said spinning around. "Oh my God!" she cried, "What the hell happened to you?

Lester's handsome features had disappeared behind a split lip, a swollen nose and a swiftly blackening left eye.

"Little difference of opinion."

"He hit you, didn't he?" she gasped in disbelief. "Ranger hit you."

Lula appeared in the doorway, hands on her substantial hips. "Shhhh!" she commanded. "My Big Guy is in here tryin' to get better and you all are out here screechin' an' squealin'. Have a little respect. That's R E S P E C T."

*****

_The pressure eased. He could swim again. No telling how long he'd been at the bottom, but the surface beckoned and he made for it -- his efforts feeble, but determined. Each stroke rewarded him with clearer water. Images brightened, sounds sharpened. He recognized not words, but voices, definitely voices – Lester, Steph, Bobby, Lula. He broke top water calling. _

"Baby Girl."

Lula let out a happy little yelp and disappeared back inside the room.

Bobby pulled out his cell phone saying, "Ranger needs to know."

Lester stopped him. He checked his watch. "I'll tell him." He tapped the face of his timepiece. "It's almost 5 o'clock. The Boss and I have a date anyway."

Together, Bobby and Steph said, "That's not a good idea."

Lester disagreed. "Yeah," he said. "It is."

*****

Lester found Ranger's Cayenne in the first row of visitor parking. The windows were tinted. No way to tell who was inside. That's what cells phones were for. He dialed. The driver side window went down. Lester took it as an invitation.

Without looking at him Ranger asked, "You here to resign?"

"No."

"Wouldn't blame you if you were."

"It's five o'clock. We had a date. Remember? You firing my ass?"

"Hadn't planned on it."

"Wouldn't blame you if you were. One way ticket to Rwanda?"

"Not that either."

Lester grinned. Big mistake. He winced in pain, but got his jab in all the same. "Yeah, you'd miss me. It's **lonely** at the top."

"Lester, I............"

The other man cut him off. All business now. An edge to his voice. "Don't bother, Ranger. You'll ruin your image. Besides. I already know I'm right." Lester paused considering the wisdom of his next words. What the hell. He leaned down putting his face right in the open window and let fly. "You fix it with her. You hurt her again. You won't see me coming."

Lester walked away then turned back and said, "Tank's awake. Bobby thought you'd want to know."

Ranger covered his face with his hands. All the air left his body. It felt like he'd been holding his breath for hours -- maybe days -- maybe months.

Despite Lester's advice, he couldn't fix it. Not only was it too late for that, but **nothing makes us so lonely as our secrets**, he thought. And his secrets still were deadly.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Consciousness was different this time – fewer fuzzies, more sharp edges. And then there were the Hounds of Hell gnawing at his chest. **Tylenol**, he thought, **is not going to help this**.

Without opening his eyes Tank tried moving but abandoned that plan when he realized his efforts were causing an ungodly moan.

He felt a gentle squeeze on his shoulder accompanied by a deep familiar voice suggesting, "Rest easy. I'll get the nurse." Another squeeze, the voice again. This time clogged with emotion. "Glad you're back."

By the time Tank got his eyes focused, Ranger was at the door of the room. It looked like he was talking to Woody and Ram. Damn. Was there a whole brigade out there? What was up with that?

After a moment's conversation with the men in the hall, Ranger returned to sink into the chair beside the bed. God, Tank thought, he's beyond exhausted.

His own voice hoarse and raspy, Tank asked, "You been sleepin' in your car?" He gestered toward the growth of beard on his friend's face. It had to number several days. Not only that. Ranger's hair hung loose and dull, tight lines and deep shadows framed his eyes. His entire body sagged with fatigue.

"Wanted to stay close."

"Just how long exactly you been doin' that? You look worse than I feel. Seems to me the last time I woke up Lula was sittin' in that chair. No offense, but she's better lookin' than you are."

That almost earned a smile.

"No doubt. That was three days ago. You woke up briefly, but then...." Ranger took a shaky breath. "then you drifted off again. We thought.........I thought we were going to lose you."

Tank laughed, an act that cost him dearly. He grimaced in pain but still got out, "You should be so lucky, Manoso. **You're a pain in my ass.** The least I can do is return the favor."

"Well, well. Look who woke up. It's about time." The nurse on duty whisked into the room. Carefully avoiding Ranger she checked Tank's vitals with quick efficiency and pronounced them acceptable. "**This is going to hurt**," she promised too cheerfully as she replaced the IV port in his arm. That completed she started to adjust the drip on his pain medication. Tank stopped her.

"Go easy on that stuff, okay? Don't knock me out. I need to talk to my man here." He nodded at Ranger.

Not sure she wanted to leave her patient in the clutches of his dark silent visitor, the nurse reluctantly agreed. "All right. Just remember pain doesn't make you macho. It makes you stupid. You heal faster without it. Understand?"

"I understand," Tank assured her. "You let me talk to him, you can knock me out for the rest of the day. Deal?"

"Deal," she agreed.

Ranger sat with his arms propped on his knees. Head down. When the nurse finally cleared the room, he said quietly, "We got him."

"Him?"

Still staring at the floor, Ranger continued, "The shooter. The guys found him."

There was a long minute of silence. "Is he dead?"

Ranger straightened in the chair. His look filled with promise, "Not yet."

"Rangeman. Don't." When Ranger didn't answer, Tank insisted, "Hear me? You're okay; I'm okay -- that's all that matters."

"He was after you."

"What?" Confusion clouded the big man's face. Who would be after him? Ranger was the one with the enemies.

"What can you tell me about Javier Velasquez?"

"You mean, Juan. Juan Velasquez."

Ranger didn't know where this was going. He decided to just let Tank talk. "What about Juan?" he asked.

A wave of sadness swept across Tank's features. "He's dead," he finally said. "Juan's dead. Been ten years now. Sometimes seems like yesterday."

Tank's eyes were wet. He wiped a tear away.

"Tank, who's Juan?"

"Never told you about him. Don't talk about him much." Tank stopped, gathering his thoughts. "He was my best friend. For a while growin' up, we did everything together." He laughed. "Good and bad. We were tight until I joined up. We talked about buddy enlistment, but at the last minute Juan decided he couldn't leave his family. He did a lot to help support them."

Weary, Tank closed his eyes. At first Ranger thought he had fallen asleep. After a minute Tank started talking again, but his eyes remained shut.

"While I was at boot camp, he made a bad decision. Couple gang members offered him the chance to make some big bucks. The family needed the money so he went along. I was home on leave after training, before I shipped out. By that time Juan knew he'd made a big mistake. He wanted out.

Tank stopped again, opened his eyes. "It was my last night home. I blew him off. He went to confront them alone. They killed him outright. He never had a chance. My best friend. I didn't have his back."

"They would have killed you too."

"I'll never know that for sure, will I?"

"You've kept me safe all these years."

"Something I had to do."

"Thank you." Now it was Ranger's turn to consider his words. "I let you down the other night," he finally confessed. You got shot........nearly died, because I lost control."

"Rangeman...." Tank started to protest.

"No. It's true." Ranger locked his gaze on Tank his eyes burning as he declared, "I want you to know that will never happen again."

"I'm not worried, Rangeman. I'm not worried."

The two men sat in companionable silence for a time before Ranger asked, "Did Juan maybe have a younger brother?"

Without making the connection, Tank replied. "Yeah, he did. More like a younger 'Oops'. Kid was a lot younger. Probably only four or five when Juan died. Now and then, if we weren't lookin' to pick up some ladies, Juan would bring him along to hang with us. Kid was just a tiny thing. One time we were playin' ball, Juan put him on his shoulders so he could stuff a basket. Smile on that boy's face. You would have thought he died and gone to...............Oh, God! That was Javier! He must be......"

"Fifteen now," Ranger finished. "I think he's waited a long time to kill you. Kid has no fear. Even I didn't faze him much. Believe me I tried. Must be losing my touch."

Tank's agitation was evident. "You can't kill him, Rangeman! You can't kill him! He has to be saved!"

"I'll save him for you, Tank. Only for you. You rest now. We'll figure this all out another time."

Ranger stood up to go. "Lula should be showing up here pretty soon. I had Woody call her when you woke up."

"My Baby Girl doin' okay?"

"She will be now. Steph's been taking good care of her. Made her go home for a while."

Tank's eyes narrowed at the mention of Steph's name. "You ain't fixed things with her yet have you?"

"Tank...I"

"Do that. Fix it. Sooner not later."

"It's not that simple," Ranger replied. There was an awkward pause. "Listen, I'm going to take off for a while. Lula isn't very happy with me at the moment. Can't say I blame her."

"Not surprised," Tank said with a shy smile. "She likes me in working order."

*****

He was already too far past the stairwell to make a quick exit when he heard the elevator ding. Shit. The doors opened. It was the three Musketeers - Lester, Stephanie and Lula.

Lula halted when she saw him. She made a formidable presence in the middle of the hallway.

"Batman," she cried pointing at him, "I been lookin' for you!"

**Please God**, he thought, **just shoot me now**.

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"I got business with you!" Lula stormed. Today's spandex was red and black. A cluster of sparkly rhinestones adorned her spacious chest.

Ranger stood stock-still. It felt like High Noon.

"An' you been avoidin' me," she continued with eyes like lasers.

Stephanie and Lester had chosen to stay by the elevator. Wise move, Ranger thought. Besides, there was no chance of relief from that front.

"You been avoidin' me," Lula counted on her fingers and held up four, "for four straight days!"

Behind him, Ranger knew Ram and Woody would be watching the proceedings with great interest. That was all they would be doing. They wouldn't move. Orders were to plant in front of Tank's door and stay put no matter what. They probably figured he could handle Lula on his own. From the looks of things that judgement was overly optimistic. Her passage down the hall was not unlike an advancing freight train. Unstoppable. Her strident litany continued.

"What is this shit gettin' my Big Guy all shot up -- AGAIN?"

A response, Ranger decided, would be useless.

"Cause you know this ain't the first time."

Agreeing with her seemed like a good idea. Ranger nodded.

"You know how mad I get when he ain't in workin' order."

Again the nod.

"And this time....." She was about a foot away. "this time......." Her lip started to quiver. "this time he was almost broke for good. And that just makes me want to.........want to." She shook with emotion.

"Go ahead," Ranger invited.

"**This is going to hurt." **Lula informed him.

"I know."

Lula's sudden right hook to Ranger's jaw knocked him back on his heels.

"Crap," Lester muttered. "Why couldn't I have done that?"

"God," Steph whispered, "Lula's going to die."

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!" Lula wailed, horrified at the blood dripping from the corner of Ranger's mouth. "Oh shit, I hit Batman!" Her eyes widened in alarm. "Oh shit, I'm gonna die!" She burst into loud messy tears.

Ranger reached out and wrapped his arms as far around Lula as possible hugging her close. "Shhhhh. It's okay," he assured her. "I deserved that. You're not going to die." He kept her in his embrace, gently patting her back. Lula cried for a bit before her sobs tapered off to a hiccup or two. She pulled far enough away to look up at Ranger.

"Not gonna die?" she asked tentatively.

In all seriousness Ranger responded, "Tank would kill me."

"Yeah," she replied with satisfaction, "he would."

Lula nestled into the safety of Ranger's hug for a couple more minutes.

Finally she said, "Batman? You been here all this time? Since they brought my Big Guy in?"

"Pretty much, yeah. Why?"

"Cause, Batman, whew! You need to go home and use some of that fancy ass shower gel White Girl is always moanin' about. Batman, you smell!"

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

He stripped down. Naked. His clothes went in the trash. Followed seconds later by his boots. There was blood on them. The skip's..............Tank's. God, add in four days of nervous sweat. No wonder he smelled. His wardrobe wouldn't miss the outfit, it could be replaced. After this last mission there was enough cash to clothe half the population of the Third World.

At what price?

He stepped into the shower. The spray came down hot and hard. Shards of water sliced across his neck and shoulders. They cut sharply into his chest and ass. He stood there a long time until his body numbed to sensation. Here no one could see him and underneath this wall of water if there were tears he could hide them even from himself.

With sudsy hands he washed himself -- both hard planes and soft vulnerable flesh. The fragrant air betrayed him; it reminded him of her. His body, the temple, had always been a potent weapon in war -- in love. The temple remained comely on the outside, fit and sleek, but the inside, he thought bitterly, the inside was decaying.

More money would be coming. But he'd made a devil's bargain.

_More gold than Midas they promised._ And just as cursed he thought.

The thing that sealed it. The clincher. _Your service will be complete._

He made the deal but broke his cardinal rule for jobs like this one -- that he work alone. That only he be responsible for what happened or did not. He'd know then when the work was finished. Finished to his satisfaction. No lost details and no loose ends.

Instead, the job was nothing but loose ends that depended on others to tie them up. He didn't know when or if it would be completed. His assignment had been the opening salvo. Information gathering. _Your connections and your heritage make you useful in this position they told him. _Very true, but it also made him the most visible, the one they'd know betrayed them when the shit began to hit the fan. The one they would come after if the clean up detail wasn't thorough in its job. If they came, it wouldn't be for him alone; they would delight in slaughtering anyone he held most precious.

He had waited a long time for her to choose him. When she came to see him, he could see the promise in her eyes. He had twelve hours before deployment, but he had to turn his back. Before he left he wanted nothing more than to take her love and wrap it around himself -- a protective mantle. He had never made an error in his work. Proof was -- he was still alive. But a warning voice in his head said. _**What if you make a mistake you can't undo?**_

He wouldn't be the only one to die.

To protect her he was cruel, pretending her presence meant nothing to him instead of being the reason that he breathed.

His face was blank, his voice denied regret. He told her she was an amusement, nothing more. One that bored him now. His tone offhand he said. _Sorry Babe, this just isn't working for me anymore. It's __getting old._

Her face went white, the promise fleeing, but she was strong his Babe. She lifted her chin and never shed a tear. She told him to be safe and then she left.

From that moment he turned into a monster. Yes there would be more money when the job was done. But the price was dear considering what he'd lost -- his men's respect, nearly his best friend's life, his sense of self, his Babe -- his love. Once rot took hold it was hard to stop its progress.

He couldn't fix it with her, in spite of everyone's advice. He was still waiting to see if it was safe. It could be a long time; it was out of his control. He had to keep his distance. By the time he gained his freedom, it would be too late.

When the water turned cold, he turned it off and wrapped a towel around his waist. He hadn't shaved. The man in the mirror sported a dark beard, a sinister appearance, his features hard and sharp. The visage fit his soul.

He knew he shouldn't have come back until it all was over, but he hadn't been able to stay away. That was a mistake he could undo once Tank was sufficiently recovered.

In the meantime he had business to attend to -- a loose end named Javier Velasquez -- a cancer currently residing in the bowels of his building. Here was a situation where he retained control.

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

WARNING: Language. Afraid Ranger remains in the black abyss for another chapter or two. There's light, I promise. Just not yet.

Chapter 14

Thick walls muffled the voice coming from inside the cell.

"_You cocksuckin' motherfuckers! I know you're watchin' me." _

Everyone always said the biggest thing about Javier Velasquez was his mouth. Javier himself knew that wasn't technically true. His mouth was only the vocal manifestation of his infinitely larger attitude. When you were a slim build five foot nothin' and spent most of your time on the mean streets, you had to figure out a way to survive. The gang bangers chose to be amused. Javier became their mascot.

"_So how do you like this? Huh?" _

Currently, Javier's slim build five foot nothin' body occupied a RangeMan holding cell. He was clad only in a pair of boxers that he now yanked down around his knees while turning to waggle his bony ass at the one-way mirror.

"_Yeah, how do you like this?"_

After a moment of enthusiastic mooning, the boy looked over his shoulder, spit in the direction of the mirror and hiked up his boxers. He plopped down on the narrow cot that along with a stainless john in the corner were the cell's only accoutrements.

Ranger watched from the other side of the one way mirror. "He been like that the whole time?" he asked without taking his eyes off of Javier.

"Yep," Cal replied, "gives us a show every coupla' hours. At least that's been the case when I've been on duty."

While Ranger studied Javier, Cal studied Ranger. Grim. The Boss looked grim. Cal's attention went to the boy in the cell. God, he was young.

Ranger's voice intruded on his man's thoughts. "He eaten anything?"

"Not much," Cal replied, "Peanut butter sandwich or two. Tried to get him to eat some fruit but......"

Ranger cut him off, his voice angry. "I don't care if he's hungry. I want to know if he's going to throw up."

"Oh." Cal waited. "Boss?"

Ranger's gaze shifted focus. "What?"

"I have no doubt this kid shot Tank. He bragged about it to my face, but....but....."

Ranger's response was deliberate and deadly. "This 'kid' planned Tank's murder for ten years. You want me to let him go? Turn him over to Trenton's finest? Maybe we should throw him a party."

Cal hesitated, but finally said, "I.....I don't know, but killing him just doesn't seem right."

"Not your call," Ranger replied unlocking and opening the cell door. Loud enough for Javier to hear he said, "Get me his clothes, cuffs and shackles. I need a van -- throw away plates. Back door. Fifteen minutes." Pointedly, he went on, "You can't do it then get Junior. And, Cal," the big man froze in the face of Ranger's stare, "trust me, I'm going to do the right thing."

Shaken, and not sure whether or not he was being a party to murder, Cal mumbled, "Sure, Boss, okay."

*****

Javier wasn't worried when he heard the cell's lock click -- the musclebound guy with the technicolor forehead had brought him food a couple of times -- it was when he heard the second voice that he did a quick swallow. _Shit! Cuffs. Shackles. Throw away plates. _Jesus, Mary and Joseph, that guy was one scary dude and he was clearly in charge. _I'm dead_, Javier thought, _but that's okay. __If he's here, that yellow no good cocksuckin' excuse for a friend must be dead. It means I nailed him, Juan.__ He let you down, but I nailed him. I'm ready. They won't see me sweat. _

As Ranger entered, Javier stayed seated lounging against the cell wall like the cot was a chaise at the beach. "Hey, motherfucker, good to see you. I'd offer you a drink, but the service around here really sucks. Not my usual standards, ya know. Say, ya got any good news? The Big Guy buy it yet?"

What was it with this kid? Ranger wanted to wrap his hands around Javier Velasquez's throat and squeeze until that smart mouth stopped. He struggled to maintain control his face reflecting a murderous resolve. More than once that look had made battle-hardened soldiers beg for their lives, but it didn't seem to bother Javier. The mouth went on as Cal knocked and walked in.

"Look who's here! It's Flaming Skull Boy."

Cal handed the clothes and restraints to Ranger.

Javier continued, "Amigo, come on, party's just gettin' started, but your compadre here isn't much for kicks and giggles."

Silently, Cal shook his head but Javier wouldn't be warned.

"Did ya bring the dancing girls?"

"Get dressed," Ranger ordered dropping the pile of clothing in Javier's lap.

"Nah, don't think so. I'm kinda into this skin thing."

Ranger moved before Javier could react. He grabbed the boy's shoulder in one hand and his T-shirt in the other. "Did I make it sound like an option? It's not."

"Okay, okay. Jeez!" Javier craned his head around to look at Cal. "This guy always have his panties in a bunch?"

Cal gave up. "Vehicle's out back," he said sadly as he left.

Before the boy could mutiny again, Ranger issued a final warning.

"Your stichk might work where you come from, but it doesn't work with me. If you believe for one second that I won't kill you because you're a kid and funny, you are sadly mistaken. You wouldn't be the first……or the youngest."

Javier got dressed.

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

I know I haven't answered everyone's wonderful comments on the last chapter. I promise to do that later today. In the meantime I am going to post this chapter right away for anyone who is concerned about Javier's well-being or Ranger's state of mind. My only advice is don't stop in the middle. Hope you like it.

Chapter 15

There was some kind of barrier behind the front seats and there were no windows so it was pitch black in the back of the van. Javier didn't know how long they'd been driving but he knew the ride had gone from smooth to bumpy and the only thing worse than driving further would be stopping. He was going to die. And, he was already alone with the devil.

_Not gonna cry, not gonna cry, not gonna cry, _Javier promised himself. But reality was sinking in and each time he took a breath he could feel a deep shudder starting low in his belly. He was gonna cry.

The heavy tape across his mouth strangled the sobs, tears streamed down his face and snot clogged his nose, but he couldn't stop.

Hands on the wheel, eyes on the road, Ranger heard the heartrending sounds. Finally, he thought. The kid is feeling something -- finally. Maybe he has a chance.

The vehicle rattled hard across a ditch. With hands and feet both bound, Javier could do little to brace himself. He rolled like a marble in a jar. The damp flooring smelled vaguely of piss. He wondered if it was his own or whether it belonged to the last person to take this ride. Another rocky mile or so and then. _Oh God!_ They stopped.

As the rear doors opened, Javier scuttled in the other direction desperate to get away from the man in black. A futile effort. The devil just came after him -- easily hauling him outside and dropping him on the ground. He huddled in a miserable heap next to a fallen tree. A quick look at his surroundings and all hope fled. Wherever they were, it was the middle of nowhere. Javier squeezed his eyes tight shut and tried to regulate his breathing. No go.

Ranger was all business shutting the van doors and pulling a small handgun from beneath his jacket. Even with his eyes closed Javier knew when the devil stood looming over him. He heard the unmistakable sounds of a weapon being checked.

"Look at me," Ranger commanded, his voice soft, deep and menacing.

Javier's response was a little whimper and a slight shake of his head.

"Again, it's not an option," Ranger said. With the gun held loosely in his right hand he crouched down seizing Javier's jaw in a vise-like grip. Startled, the boy opened his eyes. They were dark pools of pure terror.

"That's better," Ranger observed. He fixed the kid with a mesmerizing stare and Javier found himself staring back, unable to move or breathe.

"You realize that you're going to die?"

A slight nod, eyes wide with panic.

"When and how depends on you. Do you believe that I will kill you?"

Another nod.

"Good. Two right answers in a row. You're on a roll."

Ranger decided to cut the kid a break. He released his hold on Javier and reached for the tape across the boy's mouth.

"Listen to me," Ranger demanded. "I'm going to take this off, but if you talk -- so much as a word -- I'm going to shoot you now. Understand?"

Nod again. One rapid yank and the tape was history. Javier gasped and opened his mouth. Ranger glared. The mouth closed.

Sitting back on his heels, Ranger considered how he wanted to play the conversation. Javier noted the gun still present in Ranger's hand. If he had been allowed to talk he might have screamed _just shoot me and get it over with_, but he really wasn't all that anxious to die.

Mentally, because it was something he didn't want Javier to see, Ranger took a deep breath and then; he spoke.

"You ever kill anyone? Aside from your attempt on Tank?" Ranger held up the hand with the gun. "Don't talk. Anything I ask you can answer with a head bob yes or no. Got it?"

Bob. _Yes. _

"So, besides Tank. You probably knew him as Pierre didn't you?"

_Yes._

"Anybody else?"

_No. _

"Didn't think so." Ranger paused. "It's what I do for a living."

Wide eyes went wider still.

"I kill people and I'm damn good at it. I'm a soldier, but I'm the kind of soldier who comes in the night to slit your throat while you're sleeping with your wife lying next to you in the bed."

Javier's respiration increased.

Just so you know who you're dealing with. We clear?"

_Yes._

"If I get the picture, Tank and your brother, Juan, were tight, but Juan got mixed up in the gangs after Tank went to boot camp. Tank came home on leave, Juan wanted out. Juan went to say bye bye to his buddies but Tank didn't join the party. Do I have it right so far?"

A slow _yes. _A big question hanging in the air.

"How do I know all this?

_Yes. _

"Tank told me. You blew it. He's still alive."

Anger flashed on Javier's face. Ranger smacked it off.

"You little shit. The only reason you're still breathing is that he's still breathing. You think if Tank had been along that night things would have been different?" Ranger clamped a hand on Javier's shoulder and gave the kid a shake. "Do you?"

An emphatic. _YES!_

"Well, you're wrong. Only thing different -- Tank would have died too." Ranger's voice went very quiet. "I'm betting you spent ten years cozied up to the punks who killed your brother while you planned to murder his only friend. Pretty piss poor judgment."

Javer's eyes went wet.

The edge was gone from Ranger's voice when he spoke again. "I don't know what went on between Tank and your brother that night. Neither do you. What I do know is that Tank blames himself for Juan's death as much or more than you do."

Javier sniffed and two tears streaked down his face.

"Know how I know?"

_No. _

"It's not just because he told me, although he did. It's because he's spent the last ten years trying to make up for it by being at my back and three times," Ranger stopped, emotion uncharacteristically halting his speech, "three times he's taken lead. Except for him -- I'm a dead man." Black eyes bored into Javier. "So you can see why I'm not thrilled with you."

Javier hung his head waiting for the bullet.

"All right, let's go."

The head came up.

With the click of a key, the shackles fell away. Another click undid the cuffs. _What the fuck was going on? _Javier looked at Ranger questioningly. The gun had been put away, but talking still didn't seem like a good idea.

"We're paying Tank a little visit. What goes down with you -- it's up to him. Just remember what my vote is and, trust me, even on my worst day you are no match for me."

As Ranger marched the kid to the van and put him in the front seat a thought occurred to him. The part of the story he hadn't told was how he'd let Tank down. Probably a good thing Lula'd been unarmed.

_Oh, shit, _Javier thought, _dying might be easier than this._

TBC


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

"Please, Pierre," the young nurse pleaded, "it will be okay. No one will see. Please."

"Nope, need some underwear damn it. Not goin' out there."

"But, Pierre, the doctor wants you to try walking."

"Be glad to walk, miss," Tank agreed, "soon as I get me some damn underwear."

Tank was three times the poor girl's size. Nothing was happening without his cooperation.

"Big Guy," Steph strolled into the hospital room in the middle of the ongoing debate, "you are not giving this dedicated member of the nursing staff a hard time are you?"

"No," Tank replied. He was perched on the side of his bed in a hospital gown, meaty arms crossed on his chest, lips set in a mighty pout. He looked like a giant two year old.

Steph giggled. "Well, you're feeling better. No way you'd have the energy to be this cranky otherwise."

Tank whined. "Not goin' out in the hall with my ass flappin' in the breeze. Uh uh."

"Lula promised to bring you some underwear later today."

"Ah, shit," he muttered, "she'll bring the Tinkerbell boxers."

Now Steph and the nurse both laughed right out loud. "What?" Steph goaded. "What did you say?" She knew if Tank's face hadn't been black as midnight it would have been bright red.

"Oh, hell," the big man said giving in and easing down off the bed. "Tie this sucker up and let's get going. "But don't you be peekin'."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Steph assured him as she tightly secured each set of ties on the back of the gown and then gave his ass a friendly pat.

"Hey," Tank protested, "keep your hands off the merchandise."

It was good to have Tank back. Steph laughed again. "Don't you worry," she assured the nurse, "he'll be ready to go here in no time."

Plainly relieved to hand her recalcitrant patient over to someone who obviously knew how to handle him, the nurse headed for the door saying over her shoulder, "Wonderful, I'll just get his walker."

"Walker!" Tank bellowed.

"Be reasonable," Steph advised, "this is your first trip walking the hall. You go down out there they'll have to bring in a crane to get you up again -- and your ass will be flappin' in the breeze."

Tank conceded with a softy grumbled, "Fuck."

There was still a twenty-four hour guard outside Tank's room, but Ranger had reduced the manpower to one after the discovery of Javier. Manny was taking his assignment very seriously accompanying Tank and Steph as they slowly padded down the hall. The trio had just rounded the corner when Manny's cell phone chirped. He glanced at the number and answered cautiously, "Sir?"

"Yes, Sir. Right away."

Tank saw Steph stiffen at the tone of Manny's voice. It had to be Ranger. With that realization, hurt flickered across her face. The telephone conversation went on.

"But, I'm the only one here."

Manny winced, "Yes, Sir, I know you know that."

"Get my ass down there. Yes, Sir. On my way."

Manny looked up anxiously. "Gotta meet the Boss, downstairs. You two be okay?"

"Manny, go." Tank said.

Manny hesitated.

"Before Ranger has a stroke," Tank urged. "We have any trouble here, Bomber will protect me, or I'll run them over with my -- walker."

Manny took off for the elevator running.

Steph went quiet. She kept walking. Distracted, she didn't notice Tank had stopped.

"Steph," he called softly. At first she didn't even hear him. "Stephanie. Bombshell!"

She turned. "What?" When she saw that Tank was several feet behind her she rushed back to his side. "Oh, Tank! I'm sorry. You're tired aren't you. Do you need to go back? Should I get a wheelchair?"

"No, no. Not at all," he said. "I'm fine." He looked into her big blue eyes, hating the pain he saw there. "Steph?" he asked softly. "Have you talked to him?"

"Talked to him?" she responded in amazement.

"Ranger. Have you talked to Ranger?"

Steph let out a sharp snort then anger crept into her voice, "You're kidding, right? That's not funny." Her breath caught in her throat. Damn it. She closed her eyes determined not to cry. She was all done crying over Ranger.

"Steph, he lov......"

"Tank! Don't!!"

But, the Big Guy was relentless. "He loves you."

"Stop! Just stop it! He doesn't love me. He never loved me. He....... he doesn't even like me anymore."

Tank just shook his head. "Steph, Steph." He reached out and pulled her into his embrace. "I don't know what he said to you that day before he went away, but if it hurt you, if it drove you away from him it had to have something to do with this mission. He wouldn't, probably couldn't tell me anything about it. You know he's always been afraid you would be hurt because of what he does. This time it seemed worse than usual. Whatever it was, it's still going on and he's not talking about it. It's killing him. Believe me, without you, Ranger is lost in the darkness."

Steph looked sadly resigned. "Then," she said, "he damn well better get himself a flashlight."

TBC


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Ranger's grip tightened every time the chime rang announcing the elevator's arrival. They were in the lobby of the hospital and Javier had no idea what would happen next but he did know there was going to be bruise on his arm from those steely fingers. There'd been no conversation in the van; the devil zoned when he drove.

Ranger had almost decided to go in search when Manny finally emerged.

"You stop on every floor?" he growled.

"Yeah, Boss, we did." Manny replied earnestly. "There was a real crowd comin' down."

Ranger strained to hold his temper. He pulled Javier forward a little harder than was necessary. "Manny, this is Javier Velasquez."

"Boss!" Manny exclaimed. "This is the kid that....."

Ranger cut in. "Yes, Manny, I know who he is."

"I know, Boss. I know that you know."

"I want you to take him to the cafeteria and get him something to eat. Then let him wash up in the men's room and bring him upstairs. I'll be with Tank. Give us about forty minutes."

"Okay, Boss, you got it."

"And, Manny?"

"Yeah, Boss."

"The kid here is learning to speak only when spoken to." Ranger fixed Javier with a meaningful stare. "Isn't that right?"

Javier nodded yes.

"If he mouths off," Ranger continued, "call me."

*****

He knew she was on the floor before he got off the elevator. The musical lilt of her laughter suffused his body with a warmth he hadn't felt for a long time and couldn't afford to feel now -- for her sake. As Ranger started down the hall he made sure his blank face was carefully in place.

Steph walked backwards facing Tank as he plodded slowly along. She encouraged him with every step. Doing a little dance. Cajoling. Making good-natured fun of his awkward gait. When the big man stopped to rest, she threw her arms around him praising him with her hug. Tank hugged her back and, unsummoned, jealousy slammed Ranger in the chest. He should be the one to hold her, hold her all night long, hold her forever. Christ, he had to get away from her.

Tank saw Ranger coming. He whispered in Steph's ear.

"Time for me to go," she told him in response. She reached up on her tip toes to give Tank a kiss on the cheek. He groaned as she said, "I'll come back tomorrow. Maybe we can race." She laughed again, gave a little finger wave and turned directly into Ranger's path.

Look him in the eye and hold your head up high she told herself. She managed a carefree nod and a cool smile, "Ranger."

The blank face faltered slightly. He couldn't help himself. He answered with a husky note, "Babe."

His greeting touched her very center, but she wouldn't let him see.

She was gone. Down the hall and onto the elevator.

Tank's voice broke through his misery, "Damn it, Ranger, go after her. I know it's the job, but if you want her, you have to tell her something."

Ranger watched helplessly as the elevator doors closed. Reality crushed him. He was losing her -- had already lost her. He was never going to get her back.

Tank had one word for him.

"Stairs."

*****

She made it to the elevator before hyperventilation set in. Knees weak, she leaned against the wall concentrating on every breath. By the time she got to the lobby several stops later she thought she might be able to walk to her car. But, why was there a familiar tingle at the back of her neck. The elevator doors opened.

Well, that would explain it.

Ranger was standing there. It looked like he'd been running.

He blocked her way. She couldn't get off. His joining her in the elevator made the already small space smaller still. Minuscule. A well-dressed man with a bouquet of flowers in his arms thought he'd get on. Ranger cut him off.

"This one's taken," he stated flatly hitting the button, closing the doors and sealing himself inside with Stephanie.

In the elevator's close proximity, Steph couldn't trust herself to look at him. She turned her head away, but she didn't need her eyes. She knew him -- every inch. His hard body - sleek and strong. His calloused hands - brutal to his enemies but gentle, always, with her. The muscle of his forearms visible below the rolled cuffs of his shirt. The mocha latte skin at his throat pulsing with every beat of his heart. His long silky hair tied back. His eyes intense and black. His lips full and sensual.

She noticed he hadn't shaved his beard. He was mystery; he was danger; he was darkness. And, God help her, how she loved him. She closed her eyes. It didn't help. His scent filled up the space. Bulgari and Ranger mixed together -- a combination lethal to her self control.

Eyes still closed she whispered, "Ranger. What do you want?"

The car halted with a lurch as he hit the button stopping them between the floors. Unprepared, Steph lost her balance. Ranger caught her hard against his body. His answer just before his lips touched hers was, "This, this is what I want."

At first his touch was sweet and light, then harder, searching and hungry. Gasping, Steph pulled away. "You shouldn't kiss me like this,"she admonished.

Abruptly, he backed off letting go. "And don't I know it," he replied. He was breathing fast and deep. It was his turn to close his eyes.

"There are reasons for the things I do," he said. "I am a highly trained and well paid soldier. And I will always do my duty. I don't do it for the glory. There's precious little of that."

"You do it for the money," Steph accused.

"Sometimes," he agreed but then he fixed her with a look she could not fathom. "But there are reasons for the things I say and do that I can not discuss." He paused his eyes seeming to drink her in. "No matter how much I might want to."

He turned his back and without another word pushed the button to start them moving again. They stopped on Tank's floor and Ranger departed, leaving Steph alone. She watched him walk away as the elevator doors closed.

What the hell did all that mean she wondered. The elevator was a perfect setting she decided. Life with Ranger was full of ups and downs.

TBC


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Whew. Tank carefully eased himself onto his bed. Damn. Much as he hated to admit it, the brief walk had worn him out. He was exhausted and had been more than glad when the young nurse led him back to his room. He adjusted the headrest to a comfortable angle and gratefully sank back against the pillows. Closing his eyes, he let his mind drift.

He realized that with Manny off on his errand and Ranger gone after Steph he was, for the first time since he'd been shot...........

Alone.

No question he'd been shot. His pain meds were wearing thin and after the exercise he hurt -- like a mother. Yeah, he'd been shot all right.

_By the young brother of an old friend._ Accordingly to Ranger.

_Who'd made killing him the mission of his short life._ Something to think about.

Did he want to think about it?

_No, hell no!_ Did he have a choice?

_No. _ Not really.

Where was Javier now, he wondered? What had happened to him?

Tank sought to focus his thoughts. _You should hate this kid who tried to kill you. _

He tried that idea on. It didn't fit. Didn't fit at all. He gasped and jerked awake, opening his eyes. He must have dozed.

Ranger was there, sitting in the chair beside the bed talking softly into his cell phone. "That's what I needed. All right, Hal." He cut the conversation off when he saw Tank was awake.

Suddenly, troubled by what his friend might have done with the boy, Tank asked anxiously, "Is he dead?"

Ranger's face gave away nothing.

"Ranger! Javier! Is he dead?"

"Do you want him to be?"

"No! God, no!" Disturbed, Tank cried out. "You didn't........you haven't......"

"Easy man." Ranger stood and laid a reassuring hand on Tank's shoulder. "He's fine. Although, I think I finally scared the shit out of him. It took some doing."

Tank let out a sigh of relief. "You ever think about it Rangeman?"

"Think about what?"

"Dyin'. And what's on the other side."

This time, before he could shut it down, Ranger's face reflected an uncharacteristic emotion -- fear. He quickly packed that look away and answered in a harsh tone that defied death itself, "I try not to dwell on hellfire. It has a way of ruinin' my day."

Tank's voice was soft and reassuring, "The ones that say you're headed for damnation, I know they're wrong, wait and see."

There was no opportunity for Ranger to respond because Manny stuck his head in the door and inquired, "Boss?"

Ranger looked to Tank, "You up for some company?"

"Yeah, sure."

At Ranger's high sign, Manny pulled Javier into the room. Ranger pointed to the chair. Eyes wide and fixed on Tank, Javier sat. Ranger stood close behind him. He whispered a warning in the boy's ear. "Respect. It's what I expect. Understand?"

Javier nodded without taking his eyes off of Tank. God, he was big. Bigger than he had looked at the end of the gun. Big enough and strong enough to break him in two -- or three -- or four pieces. Had he really shot this man? Tried his best to kill him. Yeah. Shit!

He looks a lot like Juan Tank thought. Smaller though and harder. "Your mama know you're here?" he finally asked.

The question, asked in a deep warm bass, was not the one he was expecting. Javier glanced back at Ranger. Was he supposed to talk?

"He asks a question, you answer," Ranger directed.

Javier swallowed. "My mama's dead," he said softly, "she passed the next year after......after Juan."

"Sorry to hear that. And your daddy?"

"Dunno," the boy mumbled, "Took off after mama............." His voice trailed off.

"Where'd you go?"

Javier didn't answer. He sat head down, shoulders rounded.

"Son?" Tank coaxed.

_Son! _Been a long time since anyone had called him son. He chanced a look at the big man in the bed. This was the guy he'd shot, but his eyes were warm and kind and sorrowful. After a couple shaky breaths Javier responded, "Stayed with my Tia for some years -- my mama's sister. She didn't like my daddy. Didn't like me much neither," he finished.

"So what'd you do?"

A shrug. "This 'n that. Made my way. Lived on the streets."

"Took up with the gangs?" Tank supplied.

In a very small voice Javier admitted, "I guess."

"They give you much respect?"

The head went down again, the voice was smaller still, "Not much, no. I was a joke."

Tank's tone took on an edge, "So was I your trophy? Go out of town, make a hit. Come back a big man. Was that the way it was? That what you thought?"

There was no response.

Voice raised a notch, Tank said, "I damned near died. You look at me and you give me an answer."

Javier stiffened. He started to get up, but Ranger's hand on his shoulder kept him planted in the chair. Instead he lashed out, "You let him down! He asked you to go with him but you let him down!"

"That night," Tank started.

Keeping a good hold on Javier, Ranger interrupted, "There's something both of you should know." Tank stared at Ranger, a question in his eyes. Ranger answered it. "The call from Hal while you were sleeping. He got the information." Tank nodded, understanding.

Ranger continued, "Not long ago one of the gang's members turned state's evidence. Juan's death was one thing that he covered. According to the report, Juan never met with anyone that night. The gang was done with him; he'd served their purpose. They'd been waiting for the opportunity to take him out. He was a dead man before he ever left the house. They ambushed him. Wouldn't have mattered if he'd had six bodyguards, they would all be dead."

For a moment silence blanketed the room, then Tank began to speak, almost to himself. "I blew him off to be with a girl I knew I'd never see again. She didn't mean a thing to me. I wanted to get laid. Javier, I'm so sorry."

Was he hearing right? Was this guy, the one he'd tried to kill, apologizing for not dying with Juan? Yeah, he was. Javier blinked furiously to halt the tears that were threatening to fall. With no success. The tears came and then the sobs. He blurted out, "Sometimes Juan took me with you. Those were the best times I ever had. I wanted to go along. Juan said I couldn't, he wanted you. I heard what he said," Javier finally confessed. "He never told you what he planned to do. All he said was 'Come on. It's your last night. Let's go party.' But, I wanted it to be your fault."

Released from Ranger's grip, Javier moved into Tank's outstretched arms and sobbed. "I'm sorry. All this time. I wanted it to be your fault."

Raised voices in the hall redirected Ranger's attention. One of them was Manny's, Ranger stepped outside to address the other.

He greeted the man cooly, "Morelli."

The cop's return was equally refrigerated, "Manoso."

Neither man blinked. Ranger relaxed his stance leaning casually against the door frame arms crossed across his chest. Effectively he blocked all access to the room.

"Tank's case isn't vice," Ranger commented, "and fortunately it isn't homicide. So, this must be a social call. That right?"

Morelli's eyes narrowed. His lips drew a hard thin line. "There's a rumor on the street. I've heard it too many times to ignore it."

"A rumor?"

"Yeah. It goes like this. Your men picked up a suspect in the shooting. Instead of turning him over, you've been holding him. Obstructing justice."

Ranger smiled. "My men picked someone up -- you'd think I'd be the first to know."

"You'd think." Morelli stretched his neck to look over Ranger's shoulder. He spied Tank and Javier. They were talking softly, Javier sitting on the edge of Tank's bed. "Who's that?" the cop demanded.

Ranger threw a glance at the two figures deep in conversation. "Old family friend," he answered evenly. "Came to see the patient."

"One of these days," Morelli promised as he turned to go, "one of these days, Manoso, you're going to cross the line too many times. And when you do, I'll be on the other side to haul your ass to jail."

"I wouldn't hold my breath, if I were you," Ranger murmured to the figure retreating down the hall.

"Manny!"

"Yeah, Boss." Manny jumped.

"Call Cal. Tell him to get over here and pick up Javier. He's going to have a roommate for a couple weeks."

TBC


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Ranger watched until Morelli cleared the hall and was safely packed into the elevator before he reentered Tank's room.

The incident with the cop hadn't escaped the big man's notice. "Damn," he told Ranger, "I'm disappointed. No flowers. No hello. Not even a question about who shot me."

"He's pretty sure he knows," Ranger responded looking not at Tank but at Javier. He went on by way of explanation. "That was a Trenton police detective. So you know, I can have him stopped in the lobby and headed back up here in no time depending on what Tank wants to do."

Ranger's gaze shifted to his second in command. "Your call."

Javier froze. What would happen to him now.

"You have anyplace to go, son?" Tank asked. "Apart from back on the street?"

_Son. That word again. _Javier shook his head.

"I'm thinkin' prison doesn't sound too good. Am I right?"

_Prison! He hadn't thought about prison. _The fear must have shown on his face.

Ranger joined the conversation. "You ever think about what would happen after?

"Truth is," Javier admitted softly, "only ever thought about up to doin' the deed."

"There are consequences, you know," Ranger said, "There're always consequences." Who knew that better than he did Ranger thought.

_Consequences. Like prison. How much time would he get for attempted murder. And he'd thought about it. What did they call it? Premeditated. It was premeditated all right. He'd thought about it for a long long time. _

"Maybe," Tank put in, "maybe, Javier's learned a lesson and if he had a place to stay and the right company he could turn some things around. Like maybe change the way he feels about me."

Javier saw a little light. "I could. I know I could."

"Think you can keep that mouth in check?" Ranger asked. "Cause I have a real problem with that mouth."

"Yeah," the boy replied sheepishly.

"You might try, 'Yes Sir'," Tank advised.

It was strange to wrap his tongue around it, but Javier finally managed. He tried looking Ranger in the eye as he said, "Yes Sir."

Ranger nodded his approval. "Go hang with Manny," he said.

Javier beat it for the hall.

Ranger shook his head and eyed Tank speculatively. "Anticipated your decision, I already called Cal. He and the kid have some kind of connection. Javier can bunk with him until you get released and we sort this out. Okay with you?"

"Thanks," Tank replied, "For Juan, I'd like the boy to have a chance."

"Speaking of sorting things out," the big man began, but Ranger's cell phone interrupted. Tank recognized the signs as his friend looked at the incoming number -- the blank face -- a deadly stillness.

"I have to take this," Ranger said, already on his way out the door.

Duty called. And Ranger had to answer.

By the time he found a private corner, the call had disconnected. It didn't matter. There was never a live body on the other end, only a robotic electronic voice giving him instructions or information.

He dialed a number he could have recited in his sleep and listened carefully. If it hadn't been such serious business he might have laughed out loud but since it ranked right up there with world peace and saving the planet he allowed himself only a slight flicker of a smile.

He listened again to make sure he had it right.

_Your services required on clean-up. Outstanding remuneration will be doubled. _

He had three tries. After that the message would dissolve into a static abyss. He listened only twice to decide how he'd respond.

He dialed a different number to reply.

_Non-negotiable stipulations for additional service. Outstanding remuneration will be tripled. I'm in charge. _

It was less than thirty seconds when he received an answer.

_Agreed. _

Oh, yeah, they wanted him bad. Ranger was back in control. Before he could handle the world's problems though, he had some business right at home requiring his attention. After a quick phone call to his lawyer it was time to have a chat with Tank and, if she was willing, with a certain blue-eyed curly-haired brunette.

Cal was getting off the elevator as Ranger came around the corner. Something was different. Ranger's step was lighter, his eyes and mouth less tense. "Boss? You wanted me?"

"Manny tell you about Javier?"

That he's still breathing Cal thought. "A little. Said you wanted me to pick him up."

"I'm asking, Cal, not ordering. Tank wants the kid to have a break. You willing to take him on until Tank is able?"

"Sure, Boss, anything you want." Cal's considerable bulk shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. He'd been so sure that Javier was going to die by Ranger's hand. "Boss? I....uh.....about Javier."

"Yeah, Cal."

"I'm sorry."

Ranger clapped his man on the back. "Don't be sorry, Cal, you were right to wonder. But, Cal," Ranger locked eyes with his employee, "next time? Next time you need to trust me."

"Right, Boss. I will. Next time, I will."

"Come on. Morelli came sniffing around. Let's get this kid out of here fast."


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

"You're gonna chew that finger right down to the knuckle," Manny observed.

Javier'd been sitting cross-legged on the floor next to Manny's chair. Manny didn't talk much. Guy had to do something waitin' to find out just how screwed he was. When he saw Cal walking with Ranger, Javier figured he was pretty screwed. He scrambled to his feet. The enormous guy with the crazy tattoo on his forehead had been his jailer. After all that talk about givin' him a break, he was goin' back to that scary cell and then, poof, he'd disappear. No one would ever know what happened to him. Not that there was anyone who cared. This was worse than prison. "Oh Shit! Oh Crap! Oh Damn!"

"Kid," Ranger barked as he approached. "What'd I tell you about that mouth?"

"Hey, kid," Cal greeted. "Long time no see. How ya doin'?"

"How'm I doin'? How'm I doin?" Javier gasped out in short jerky breaths.

"Don't think you two have been formally introduced," Ranger said conversationally. "Cal, this is Javier. Javier this is Cal. He's going to be your roommate -- at least until Tank gets out of here."

"Roommate?" Javier whispered. "Gonna be my roommate?"

"Yeah, kid. You and me are gonna bunk together for a while." Cal hooked his huge ham of a hand around the back of Javier's scrawny neck and dragged him closer. "We're gonna get along just fine 'cept for one thing." Cal narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. "You **ever** call me 'Flamin' Skull Boy' again I'll knock you into next Tuesday. Ya got it?"

"Yeah," Javier squeaked.

Ranger raised an eyebrow.

"Uh....uhhh...uh......I mean, Yes Sir."

Cal's booming laughter echoed off the walls as he shepherded Javier down the hall.

*****

Tank was resting but he wasn't asleep. He opened his eyes when Ranger entered the room. "Sounds like they'll do okay together."

Ranger nodded his agreement. He didn't sit down, just stood there looking at Tank.

"You're goin' 'in the wind'." It wasn't a question.

"Yeah," Ranger confirmed.

"This the same job? Cause I thought your part was done."

"Seems they can't live without me."

"From the satisfaction on your face, I'm guessin' this is a good thing?"

"I was going to have to leave anyway," Ranger said quietly. "I can't.....I can't.......," he stopped unable to go on.

"Didn't go well with Steph?" Tank asked.

"Not my finest hour," Ranger admitted with his head down. "I can't stay away from her." When he raised his eyes, Tank saw real fear in them. "And I have to stay away. You have no idea how dangerous it is. I cannot bear her being hurt because of me."

"She's already hurtin'. You ever consider, Rangeman, that it might not be just about you? That she might consider it a risk worth taking? Something to think about," Tank finished.

"I'm going to see her before I go," Ranger volunteered. "If she'll let me in. May be too late. Funny thing is, this time when I come back, I won't be going away again."

"Kind of thought that might be the case. But, it's never too late, Rangeman, never too late."

Ranger took a deep breath. "There's some business -- before I go. A sum of money is coming in. Soon. It's an obscene amount."

There was a question on Tank's face.

"I played a little hard ball. Like I said, they can't live without me. The money is going into a trust to be used for living and educational expenses for kids like Javier. He's named as the first recipient. Others down the line. You get to pick. You're the trustee."

"I don't know what to say." Tank's eyes were wet.

"Don't say anything. It's the least I can do."

They gripped each other's forearms -- a solid link of loyal friendship.

"You take care -- get out of here," Ranger said. "When I get back we need to make some plans. Maybe expand."

"I like the sound of that," Tank said.

"Expanding?"

"No, **when** you get back."

"You goin' somewhere, Batman?"

Lula stood in the doorway in all her tangerine spandex glory.

"For a while."

"Well, you best be talkin' to my White Girl before you leave," she instructed, one hand planted on her ample hip, "or you be dealin' with me!"

"It's my intention," Ranger told her. Rubbing his jaw, he continued, "I sure don't want to field your right hook again." Motioning toward Tank, he said, "And you take care of this guy. I need him in working order."

"**You** need him in working order," Lula huffed indignantly, "**I** need him in working order."

Ranger had to smile and Tank laughed until he hurt.

*****

Somehow she had made it to her car in the hospital parking lot, but the encounter with Ranger in the elevator had left Steph with rubber legs and a rapid heartbeat.

"Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!" she yelled pounding on the dashboard. "Damn it all!" she shouted at the cracked windshield. Yeah, her car was another piece of shit.

Three, no -- almost four months of carefully honed equilibrium shot to hell with one whiff of Bulgari and half a kiss. "Shit! Shit! Shit!" The man was a devil.

The closer she got to her apartment, the angrier she got. By the time she parked next to the dumpster her knuckles were bone white and she had to peel her fingers off the steering wheel. She had to get away from him before she lost it completely.

*****

The stop at Haywood wouldn't take long. Ranger parked in the garage and got off the elevator on five. There was more conversation in the Control Room than he liked to hear, but it went quiet when he stuck his head in the door and commanded, "Bobby, out here. Now!"

Bobby turned his monitor over to the man next to him and joined Ranger in the hall. "You need me, Boss?'

"Noisy in there."

"Guys are relieved Tank's doin' well and Cal brought Javier in. Showed him around."

"Better keep control. You're in charge until Tank gets back."

"You leavin'?"

"Within the hour."

"Short notice."

"Yep. Keep it together. Send someone to the airport to pick up my car."

"Will do, Boss."

On the seventh floor Ranger checked his e-mail and printed out the documents from his lawyer. A quick review, a signature and the money he was about to earn was set up to be spent. He showered, changed and packed one small hand held duffel. He was out the door in twenty minutes.

In the garage, Lester was leaning against the Cayenne.

"Thought I'd drive you. Bring the car back. Save someone a trip."

"No thanks," Ranger said.

"Not going directly to the airport?" Lester pushed.

"You really do have a death wish don't you, Santos. You know damn well where I'm going first."

Lester smiled, stuck out his hand. "Ranger, I hope it works -- for both your sakes."

"Me too," Ranger said accepting Lester's offering. "Me too."

TBC


	21. Chapter 21

Many thanks to all of you who have so faithfully followed this story. I hope you have enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing and that the ending meets with your approval. If not, I'm sorry, but this is the way I see it. Here we go. Final Round – Steph and Ranger!

Chapter 21

Ranger watched from the parking lot. She was home. Her piece of shit was parked beside the dumpster and there were lights in her apartment. Once or twice he saw her silhouette pass by the bedroom window. Then the lights went out.

He'd give her a few minutes. He wouldn't mind finding her in bed half asleep with her wild curls spread across the pillow. Hell, he might have a better chance in bed; he could be very persuasive in bed. Did she still sleep in one of his T-shirts?

*****

Steph had spent the evening packing. And unpacking. She'd gone from thinking she had to get away from Trenton to refusing to be chased out. Decision still unmade, she tried going to bed. Nope, not working. So, instead she sat on her sofa in the dark listening to Rex do his daily dozen. A comforting squeak accompanied every turn of his wheel.

The squeaking stopped. A shiver went down her spine starting with a tingle at the back of her neck. Oh shit! She stilled and listened as the locks tumbled and Ranger broke into her apartment. Again.

He was nothing more than a shadow in the room when her voice, angry and bitter, caught him -- caught him -- off guard.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

There was a startled, "Babe!"

"Don't you 'Babe' me." She scrambled off the sofa. "Get out! Get out right now! Go!"

Ranger backed away from her onslaught. "Babe." This time his voice a husky whisper. "Babe, I..........I need to.."

She cut him off. "After the things you said to me! You have no business here. I know how you feel about me. I worked long and hard getting over it. Just go! Get out! You have some dents in your conscience, you take them to another body shop." She finished quietly shaking her head. "Cause this one's closed."

Her words knocked the breath out of him more surely than a solid kick in the gut. "I'm sorry," he finally managed, his voice flat. "It's true. I have no right."

She couldn't see him in the dark, but Steph was sure that Ranger's face was blank. He turned and walked out the door carefully closing it behind him.

She shook all over. Oh! Shit! What had she done? Ranger was the man she loved more than life itself and she'd sent him away without even listening. Didn't she want to know what he had to say? She ran to the door. Stopped.

No! She wasn't going after him. He would hurt her again -- with his secrets and his silence and his words. It would be like always. She wasn't going to let that happen. Not this time. With her hand on the knob she laid her cheek against the cold panel of the door and cried.

In the hallway Ranger leaned against the wall beside Steph's door and shook all over. You're a soldier, he told himself, _fall back, regroup_. _Try another tactic_. He hadn't failed a mission yet. He wasn't about to let this one be the first. He took a couple slow deep breaths. Time for heavy artillery.

Silently he began to count. One one thousand. Two one thousand. Three one thousand. Four one thousand.

When he'd ticked off a full two minutes he turned to the door. And knocked.

Once. Twice. Before he got to three the door whipped open.

"What!" Steph's eyes were red, her hair in disarray. She **was** dressed in his T-shirt. And she'd been right on the other side of the door.

"I love you." Three simple words.

"What??" She couldn't have heard him right. Ranger would never say, 'I love you.'

"I love you. Always have. Always will. No conditions."

There he went again. She stared up at him. He was staring back his eyes black and tender. His face, not blank, instead an open book. He loved her! Something else was different. She touched his cheek. The beard, in place since Tank's shooting, was gone.

"You shaved."

The smile he gave her had more wattage than she'd ever seen. "I'm a new man," he responded.

"Oh," was all that she could manage as she backed away from the door.

Ranger interpreted retreat as invitation. He followed her into the apartment and gently pulled her into his embrace.

He felt so good. His hard body fit perfectly into to her soft curves meshing like the pieces of a puzzle. She held him tight absorbing his strength. He buried his face in her hair and she heard him whisper.

"Babe, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

He had reason to be sorry she remembered. Suddenly his warm body was not enough. She needed more. She stiffened in his arms and he felt her change. He pulled back to judge her mood.

Her face was still and serious, her eyes were luminous with tears but she didn't look away or down. She looked him in the eye.

"That day," she said, "I came to tell you that I loved you."

"I know."

"You said terrible things to me." She pulled out of his arms.

Bereft, he reached for her, but she stayed away just out of reach. His voice hardened, "I had to do what I did. There were reasons."

"No," she cried, "don't you see? That's not good enough. It's the same old story."

"I'll admit I handled things badly. Believe me, all your friends, and you have a boatload of them, have told me so. They want to kick my ass to hell and back."

She still wasn't satisfied. "You can't tell me your secrets. I get that. Believe me, I don't want to hear all the details. But you just said you are a new man. Prove it. If you love me, you have to trust me."

She sat down on the sofa and pulled her feet up under her. She crossed her arms fingers griping her elbows. She was a rock.

God, he loved her. She was so beautiful. She was so brave. He couldn't fuck this up. Losing her would kill him.

Only a wave could break down the rock. He had to be the wave. He wiped his hand across his face and swallowed hard.

"I have........I have," he closed his eyes and tried one more time his face twisted with emotion. "I have a nightmare. In it I've been taken prisoner. I'm in a tiny cell but it's not made of bars; it's glass and it's completely soundproof. What my jailers want from me changes. Sometimes it's information. Sometimes it's a crime they want me to commit. Sometimes it's a pound of flesh. Payback. The constant is that they have you and..........they hurt you. You scream and I scream." He opened his eyes. He looked lost. Empty. "But we can't hear each other. This mission, had every potential to make my dream come true. I wanted you to hate me so they'd never figure out how much you mean to me."

"I still don't understand," she said quietly, "why did you have to be so cruel."

"I made a mistake when I took the job. The final execution of the plan was out of my control. I couldn't be sure of the completion. It's still going on."

He held her gaze, willing her to understand, but she was more confused than ever. Her brow furrowed as she asked, "So what's different?"

"Now," he said with satisfaction, "now I'm in charge."

She inhaled sharply with the sudden realization, "You're leaving."

"Yes."

"Oh, God," she ran into his arms holding him tight. "You can't leave, you can't leave. I love you."

"I love you too, Babe, and I'll be back, I promise." With one finger he raised her chin and gave her a long lingering kiss. "And when I get back I won't be leaving any more."

"Really?"

"Really."

She hugged him tight again. "Oh, Ranger, I'm afraid. Be careful."

He laughed. I'd like to be, but there isn't time. I want to hurry back to you."

"Ranger! You have to come back to me! Take all the time you need to be safe." With love in her eyes she promised, "Because, Ranger...................I'll be waiting."

The End.

Thanks so much! Hope you liked it! SueB


End file.
